Wink Poppy Midnight (18 page)

T
HEY NEEDED MY
help. I knew they would.

I washed my hair with cinnamon soap and put on my acorn skirt and waited for them in the hayloft.

I told them we had to have the séance in the Roman Luck house. That it all had to end where it began. I took one of the extra quilts Mim kept in a trunk at the top of the stairs and I threw it over my shoulder and then grabbed my basket and we walked through the woods together.

I laid the blanket on the floor in the music room. I took three white candles out of my basket and placed them in the middle. I knew how it went. I'd seen Mim hold séances seven times. She didn't do it for every client, only the special ones, the special ones with a lot of money. I went off to the corner and stood there silently for a bit, as if I was preparing myself, but it was mainly for dramatic effect.

Midnight was quiet, and didn't say much. He was scared.
All good Heroes are scared, if they know the evil they face.

Briggs asked why I didn't bring a Ouija board and when I told him I didn't have one he looked like he didn't believe me.

Thomas clung to the shadows in the corner of the room like he was trying to hide, like he was Anthony Twilight in
Fourteen Stolen Things.

Buttercup and Zoe cuddled into each other and whispered in each other's ears and held hands.

I lit the candles.

It began.

M
E AND THE
Yellows found Wink in the hayloft.

Her eyes had a look in them when she saw us all climbing up the ladder, like she'd known we'd come for her.

She grabbed the quilt and basket that she'd already packed, that's how ready she was. Wink and I walked side by side down the path, not talking, like that very first time, when we'd stumbled into Poppy's party.

Wink set the unlit candles on the blanket and then stood in one of the corners, in the dark. I figured she was meditating,
or whatever it is that mediums do. I sat on the green sofa and listened to the floorboards groaning in the hallway, though no one was walking on them. I listened to the tree branches scraping the un-smashed pieces of the bay window. I listened to the old house make its old house sounds, rasp, creak, groan.

Here I was again, in the Roman Luck house in the middle of the night.

Tricking Wink and then tricking Poppy and kissing them both and tying them both up . . . and now I was back in the house again and Poppy was missing and I'd gathered the Yellows for a séance.

Briggs tried to make a few jokes, about how stupid séances are, and how it's all bullshit, just rapping tables and sliding panels and fake beards, but no one laughed or even looked at him.

We all sat down on the blanket in a circle.

Wink lit the candles.

I
MADE EVERYONE
hold hands. I looked very grave and said that if they let go during the séance bad things would happen. Which wasn't true, I just wanted to see if they believed me, and they did.

Midnight was on my right, his fingers strong and sturdy,
like Thief's. Thomas was on my left. He had long, elfish fingers that were warm, almost hot. I waited until Buttercup and Briggs and Zoe were clasped and ready.

Nothing happened.

I asked Poppy if she was present.

Nothing happened.

The house creaked and moaned and the Yellows breathed and twitched and fidgeted and Midnight squeezed my hand.

Nothing happened.

I called out to Poppy again. I told her I was ready and listening.

Nothing happened.

The candles flickered and the wind picked up outside, but I wasn't cold. I was warm suddenly, warm like I had a fire burning in me. I held my breath and pictured myself as a cavern, deep and open, a vessel that needed to be filled, just as Mim had taught me.

Nothing happened.

a

n

d

t

h

e

n

My head flipped back. My mouth opened and my eyes shut and my tongue fluttered and the words . . . poured . . .

I thrashed and whispered and shouted and the words
poured and poured.

I was Autumn Lind with the kitchen knife, and then I was Martin, screaming and screaming, the blood gushing out, gushing right here in this room, tell my children I love them, tell
them, tell them, and then I was Autumn again, choking and shaking as my neck snapped in the noose . . .

I thrashed and screamed and then the words . . .

s

t

o

p

p

e

d.

I brought my head upright again, opened my eyes, relaxed my shoulders. Midnight and the Yellows were shaking and I could feel their fear in the air, crackling like static during a thunderstorm.

And right on cue, it started raining outside, like I'd commanded it, like I'd called it down from the night sky, the rain tore at the broken window and splashed inside and hit me on the cheek and I was the Queen now, bow down before me, this is
how it was meant to be, this was how it was supposed to be, all of them watching and waiting on my every word, breaths held . . .

I yanked my hands free from Midnight and Thomas, one swift move, and got to my feet.

“God, you're all such losers,” I said, first thing out of my mouth, and they all just stared and stared, as if I hadn't called each of them a loser countless times in the past, hundreds, thousands, millions.

I looked down at myself, touched my hair, stroked my bony knees with my palms. “Can you believe this shit?
Feral Bell.
Beggars can't be choosers, I guess.”

They stared and stared and I just let them, let them take me in.

“Poppy . . . Poppy, where are you? Are you okay? What happened to you?”
Squeaking, pathetic little voices.

“I'm dead,” I whispered. And then laughed. “
Dead.
I'm dead and this house is my tomb and I want you to burn it down.
I want you to burn the Roman Luck house to the ground.
”

The rain pelted in and the lightning ran slick across the stars and I stood there with my hands on my hips and all of them watching my every move, frozen with fear, their pitiful faces stretched and open and so, so terrified.

They asked me questions, so many questions, who did this and who did that and what about the letters and what about the clues and oh, they were so sorry, so very sorry . . . and it bored me to tears, so finally I put my hands on Thomas's
shoulders and straddled him, one skinny leg nestling up to each hip, knees squeezing in. I kissed him, I kissed him deep, I writhed my body and swung my hair and he kissed me back, I wasn't sure he would, but oh yes he did, he pulled his other hand free and put both on me while they all just stared, and then I whispered in his ear,
Remember the night we did it in the rain, in the wet grass by the Blue Twist? The cold drops hit our bare skin and we shivered like ghosts and were slippery like eels . . . I never told anyone, did you?

And Thomas shook his head and then I got up and went around the circle, I whispered in all their ears, I whispered all their secrets, and they watched and stared and I sashayed around them and let my hips flick side to side, let my long spine arch and my hair swing, I was the Queen, I was the villain, I ruled them all. I let their worship wash right over me like a cool rain, like the rain outside, cooling down the sky, and it felt so good I wanted to scream scream scream with joy, keep staring, you fools, keep staring, soak it up, soak it up, soak me up, like rays of sunshine after a storm, there'll never be anyone like me again, never ever ever ever.

Midnight was last, I went around the circle and saved him for last, I sat in his lap and gripped his hair in my fingers and he looked horrified, beautifully and genuinely horrified and my red hair fell around his cheeks and I pushed my chest into his and whispered in his ear,
I'm sorry I teased you about
the magic tricks that one time, I felt bad about it afterward, I really did, I'm sorry I teased you about everything, Midnight, all of this, the letters and the séance, all of it was for you, just so I could say I miss you, god, how I miss you, time goes slower where I am, it feels like years since I last crawled into your bed, years and years, I just wanted to see you one last time, Midnight, I needed to say I'm sorry, I—

He pushed me off of him, right off, like I burned, like I was poison.

And my foot hit a candle and the candle hit the blanket and then . . .

Fire.

W
INK MADE US
all hold hands. I took hers in my right, Buttercup's in my left.

Jasmine. That was first.

The smells of the Roman Luck house, the smells of dust and rot and woods and mold . . . gone, all gone.

And the air filled with jasmine.

The Yellows smelled it too. Their eyes went wide. I saw it. They knew what it meant. The smell was thick, sickly, and I
wanted to cover my nose with my hand but Wink had warned us not to let go.

Wink.

“Poppy, are you here?” she said. Her voice was calm and clear and soft.

Silence.

I squeezed her hand.

“I'm listening, Poppy. I'm ready.”

Silence.

It started small. Wink's eyes closed, and her lips drew tight,
tight,
as if her face was trying to swallow her mouth. Her cheeks sunk in. Hard, dark, hollow bruises.

The Yellows stopped turning their heads and sniffing the air. We all froze.

Wink's head tilted back, so far her hair touched the floor, and her body went rigid, it
snapped,
like a rope pulled tight, like the rope that we used to tie up Poppy, snap, her wrists to the piano.

The things that came out of her mouth . . .

Gibberish and swearing and moaning. Guttural groans and sobs. On and on. Wink jerked and strained against my fingers but I didn't let go, I didn't let go. Her head whipped sideways
and her back arched and tears streamed from her green eyes . . .

What should I do? I wanted to stop it, I had to stop it, but I was scared, so scared, was this what Poppy had wanted? For
Wink to come to the Roman Luck house and let the unforgivables in, let them destroy her too? Wink said bad things would happen if we let go, but I wanted to let go of her hand
, I wanted to shake her, shake the unforgivables out of her, god, it was horrible, no wonder Poppy had died, left alone with them, how could we have done it?

Wink started screaming and I screamed with her and Zoe and Buttercup screamed too and Briggs shouted and Thomas was silent and . . .

And, suddenly, it stopped.

Wink hushed. Everything, her voice, her arms, her hair,
hush
.

Her fingers went limp.

She straightened, and opened her eyes.

The thunderstorm hit, right then, right that very second. Rain slapped the broken shards of the bay window, plop, plop, and then faster and faster. Thunder cracked so hard the ground started shaking, or maybe it was just me, shaking and shaking. I couldn't seem to stop shaking.

Wink yanked her hand away. Her fingers slipped right through mine. I let out a little groan as it happened. I'd been so sure that if I just held on to her everything would be okay in the end.

She stood up. She flipped her red curly hair behind her shoulders, and put her hands on her tiny hips.

“God, you're all such losers,” she said.

And it wasn't Wink's voice, small and whispery and soft. It was arrogant. Sultry.

Wink touched her hair, and looked at her arms, and her legs, smooth and graceful twists, eyebrows raised, lips pressed together in a pout.

“Can you believe this shit?
Feral Bell.
Beggars can't be choosers, I guess.”

The chill started in my heart and shuddered through the rest of me. My scalp stung and my skin itched.

I still held Buttercup's hand in my left. I'd forgotten all about it until she was suddenly squeezing my fingers so hard it took my breath away.

“Poppy . . . Poppy, where are you? Are you okay? What happened to you?”
Thomas had tears coming down his face, fast, like the rain outside.

“I'm dead.” And she laughed. And it wasn't Wink's laugh, it didn't remotely sound like Wink's laugh, whispers and chinkling toy piano keys. It was cold and hard and sneering and Poppy, all Poppy.

“
Dead.
I'm dead and this house is my tomb and I want you to burn it down,
I want you to burn the Roman Luck house to the ground.
”

None of us moved, none.

“Where are you? Can we help you? We're so sorry, we didn't
believe it, didn't believe you'd really do it . . .”
Buttercup's voice fluttered, in and out, like the candle flames.

“Wink and Midnight tied me up and left me here, but the unforgivables did their part too. Freckle-faced Feral was right about them.” And she laughed again, hollow and mean and cold. “They're here right now, breathing down your necks . . . except you can't even see them, you fools. They won't hurt me anymore, I'm beyond all that, they've got their evil focused on you now.”

“Who's here? What are the unforgivables?” Briggs, voice strong and quivering at the same time.

Wink sighed . . .

I mean Poppy . . .

I mean Wink . . .

“This is so
boring
. I'm tired of answering questions. Just shut up, all of you, and let me do what I came here to do.”

She climbed on Thomas then, cuddled right up to him, knees on each side of his hips.

She kissed him.

He kissed back.

It was Wink's red hair and Wink's skinny spine, but it was Poppy's lips and Poppy's gestures and it was horrifying.
Horrifying.

She put her mouth by Thomas's ear and began to whisper and whisper. His eyes filled with tears again and his mouth
parted and he looked so sad . . . and so filled with joy . . .

Then she was up and onto the next person.

Zoe.

Buttercup.

Whispers and stricken looks and horrifying, horrifying.

Briggs, she kissed him too, freckled hands on his cheeks. My heart broke watching it. Split in two. And I didn't know if it was because Wink was kissing him, or Poppy, or both.

She sat in my lap last. She grabbed my hair in her fingers and her curls burrowed into my neck and her chest pressed into mine.

And the things she said,
the things she said,
Poppy's voice coming out of Wink's lips. She said she was sorry. She said it over and over.

But Poppy never said she was sorry, not ever.

Not ever.

I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand one more second of it.

I pushed her away from me.

The blanket moved, and her foot knocked over the candle, and then flames, flames and fire.